Divide
by All Teeth
Summary: After an unfeasible anomaly, the TARDIS lands the Doctor in a parallel world that he may never escape from, forcing him to not only cope with the fact that he is trapped but with the truth that in this world, our world, he is nothing more than fiction.
1. Chapter 1

Divide

By All Teeth

I do not own Doctor Who or Torchwood. Please review.

Rated Teen for language and sexual suggestion. This rating may be subjected to change upon further development.

After an unfeasible anomaly, the TARDIS lands the Doctor in a parallel world that he may never escape from, forcing him to not only cope with the fact that he is trapped but with the truth that in this world, our world, he is nothing more than fiction.

Robin Larson blinked tiredly at her screen and shook her head. This would be a complete and total waste of life if it weren't so addictive. She needed the mindless, numbing affects and addictiveness of a good sci-fi just to keep her going in the boring and relatively dull world. The mind could only handle so much disappointment before spiraling into depression and to Robin's overactive and creative mind, all of humanity was a bit of a disappointment. Not saying that she despised the race, seeing how she was part of it and hardly a self-hater, but in comparison to the fantasies her mind could offer, the life of a human just seemed rather…lackluster. She wanted an adventure; a true, hardy, exciting and dangerous adventure with the lords and ladies of the impossible to see, face and aid the equally impossible. What she had was a so-so job, a so-so house and a so-so life; most of which was just moseyed through with the help of mental pain-killers such as television, fan-fiction and the occasional taking apart of some electronic device that had the misfortune of being no longer functional.

Recently she had hooked onto the utterly famous British sci-fi, Doctor Who. She had actually gotten into it through a spin-off series called Torchwood, which in turn she had gotten into out of her interest and support of the LGBT community. Torchwood was open like that. A great sci-fi with no qualms about throwing a wrench into normal television sexuality was like a dream come true. The character Captain Jack Harkness was the man that set it all into motion. A 51st century, immortal Time Agent who was hot, funny and would shag anything with a postal code led a team against alien threat on earth. A seductive concept. And for Robin, this led to that and she found herself buried in Doctor Who like a tick; not to mention that she had a personal goal to watch as much as she could for the upcoming Doctor Who Christmas special. A Doctor Who Christmas Carol, who could resist?

Despite the fact that she had tried to turn herself onto the new fifth season of Doctor Who and the Eleventh Doctor in time for the Christmas event, her Torchwood roots lead her elsewhere, namely Captain Jack's other adventures with the Time Lord. At first it had just been the episodes that filled in the gaps between the first and second season of Torchwood, but the odd goofiness of a certain Tenth Doctor perked her interest, just a little. Next up were Bad Wolf and The Parting of Ways, where Jack becomes immortal. Robin had to admit, she actually wasn't all that impressed with the Ninth Doctor, but when he regenerated into the Tenth Doctor it was a catch. It was onto Christmas Invasion and beyond.

So that was that. She had gotten hooked, just like always. It had her craving adventure even more, something she sadly knew would never come. And in a way, it didn't. Not really. No trilling adventure or terrifying aliens. But what did happen was close enough. And to think it all started with a rather loopy sounding theory, an unexpected trans-dimensional rift in time and space and a yogurt cup.

Robin sighed as she paused her writing. It really was pointless, writing fan fiction in the dead of night, tucked away in her room as though she expected the parents she no longer lived with to pop in and scold her. It was probably just instinct left over from her teenage years when she _did_ have to hide away to use the computer so late. That and lying in bed was comfy. The Eleventh Doctor's bit about getting the Weeping Angels to say 'comfy chairs' popped into her mind, making her snort for a moment. She turned back to her writing and decided to let it drop, opting to go get a snack for a minute and come back to her work with a fresh mind.

She hauled herself up quickly, instantly regretting doing so as a dizzy spell set in. Having low blood pressure wasn't something she enjoyed having. It wasn't a major case, but enough to make her dizzy and her vision go dark for a few seconds if she got up too quickly. It had elevated to much worse circumstances in the past, but that wasn't now. Now was better. She still had to occasionally steady herself on a doorframe, but it was better that passing out cold in the middle of the floor.

Shaking it off, Robin resignedly trudged to the kitchen, flicking the lights on as she went. After raising an eyebrow at her dog, who lay curled up on the couch; a place the canine knew better than to be in, the young woman finished her trek to her refrigerator and pulled open the door. So much to choose from, so little she cared to eat. Finally, she settled on a cup of strawberry yogurt, plucked up a spoon and wandered about her house as she ate. The moon was full and bright that night, so she hadn't needed to turn on as many lights to see. The silver sphere drew her attention out the window as the ice maker hiccupped into a hum from the freezer behind her. For a moment, she shook her head at the noise.

"You know been watching too much Doctor Who when your ice maker start to sound like the TARDIS." She mumbled with a sleepy smirk. Robin's brown eyes flitted back to the beautiful silvery moon, smiling at how content it seemed. Life would surely be out in the starry field beyond somewhere, it had to be. She refused to believe otherwise.

It was just then that movement below pulled her sight from the sky. A figure moved along the street in a disjointed fashion. At first she figured it was some poor fellow who had had a bit too much to drink and was just trying to work his way home, but upon further inspection that didn't seem right. From the way the man moved, it seemed that it was pain that impaired his coordination, not substance. She instantly grew worried. Had someone attacked him? Had he been in an accident? Robin bit her lip as she watched him stumble along until she couldn't take it anymore. Leaving her yogurt on the counter, she hastily pulled on some slippers, flicked on the front porch light and hurried out the door. The closer she got to him, the easier it was for her to tell that he was indeed in pain. He seemed very tired and was limping a little. She kept her distance as not to startle his and mustered up the courage to speak.

"Sir?" She called out to him. The man stopped and propped himself against a tree to allow her to catch up. "Sir? You don't look very well. Have you been in an accident?" She asked him cautiously as she arrived at his side. The moonlight only seemed to cast an eerie shadow on his face and in her worry, she had forgotten a flashlight. He slowly looked up at her, seemingly unaffected by the light quality.

"Hello." Was the first thing he said, a British accent hugging his voice.

"Hello. Sir, I think you need help. I'm afraid I can't see you very well. Seeing in the dark isn't something we humans do naturally."

"True that." He managed with a half chuckle that died into a gasp of pain. Robin placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Sir, you're hurt. Do you need me to call an ambulance?" The man shook his head.

"No, no. Don't do that. It would screw up your history." The young woman nodded, completely unaware of the strangeness of his sentence.

"Right. Then what do you need? I'd like to help you."

"Just a place to rest. I heal rather quickly as long as I just have a place to lie down." Robin bit her lip, hesitant about what she was about to do.

"This may be odd, considering you're a complete and total stranger, but my house isn't far, just up the hill. I'm willing to take you there to maybe get you something warm to drink and a place to sit, get you all sorted out. To tell you the truth, I've needed someone to talk with lately. I can't promise you a place to lie down until I'm sure you absolutely need it."

"Fair enough. Quite a bargain even, considering the circumstances. I might need a little help though." Robin nodded again, feeling the cold air starting to get to her and most certainly him.

"Alright. Just lean on me if you need to. Come on." She gently took his arm and led him up the driveway with practiced tenderness. When they finally got to the steps, the man sat, out of breath. Robin still had yet to make out his face, despite the porch light. "Come one, we're almost there. We can't have you out here like that. It's too cold."

"I'll be fine, just give me a minute to sit."

"Well…if you're sure. I'll go in and make something warm to drink. If you need me to help you, just holler." She said with a sad smile. Sometimes it was useless arguing with the helpless. Their condition tended to make them stubborn, giving them a feeling of being in control by being defiant.

"Thank you. Tea if you have it." Robin acknowledged his request and hurried inside, setting about the task of finding a suitable tea for the man. After about fifteen minutes she heard him enter slowly but something stopped her from turning to face him as she heated the water and got out the cups.

"I'm Robin, by the way. Robin Larson. And if you're wondering, no, I don't always take in random strangers and I don't intend to make it a habit either."

"Never said you did." Robin shivered in a pleasant sort of way. His voice seemed familiar and she could almost feel him smiling at her.

"So, you've heard what I'm called, what about you?"

"Well, I'm called the Doctor. And it's just the Doctor, mind you, nothing else." Robin almost dropped a cup. She shakily put it down, every fiber in her body shaking.

"What did you say you were called?"

"The Doctor. Just…the Doctor." The young woman whipped around from where she was standing and stared at the man, eyes wide. She almost fell over. For there leaning against here kitchen wall, all tattered and bruised, was a man that looked exactly like David Tennant.

"I have a Time Lord…in my kitchen." This time the Doctor returned the look of shock.

"Now how the devil did you know that?"

"You know that theory that once a universe is created fictionally, it exists physically as a parallel universe?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, one of the more out there theories, but I suppose nothing's impossible. But why…oh. You mean.."

"Yeah…"

"So you know who I am because…"

"In this universe, you exist as a fictional character." He slumped further against the wall.

"I take it you're a fan then?" The Gallifreyan with a slight glance to the side.

"More or less."

"Do mind if I take a seat? I have the feeling this is going to be a long night."

"Be my guest and let me know if you need an aspirin or something"

"Are you trying to kill me?"

"Oh, sorry. Forgot…You know what I mean."

"Right. Right. Sorry." He placed his fingers at the bridge of his now, his head obviously bothering him. Robin noticed a cut at his temple among other places, his sideburns beginning to mat with his off-color blood. The poor man's suit was torn and equally bloodied.

"Just tea and maybe some antiseptic for now then? I could also see what I could do about dredging up some cloths for you." The Doctor gave the woman an odd look.

"Robin. I have to admit, you're taking all of this very well."

"I know. It's usually normal to freak out or something, right?"

"Or something…"

"Well, the water's boiling; it'll take a little bit. I'll go see what I can do about cloths."

"Alright." He said with a tired smile, watching her head down the hall. He then looked to his watch as though expecting something to happen. It only took about a minute.

"**HOLY SHIT! THERE'S A TIME LORD IN MY HOUSE! THE DOCTOR IS IN MY FUCKIN' HOUSE! THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!"** Robin rushed out into the kitchen, waking the dog with a start and ran up to the Doctor, taking him by the shoulders. "This isn't happening, tell me this isn't happening! I'm dreaming! I must be!"

"You're not dreaming. This is really happening." He told her calmly as he could. Despite his gentleness, it was just too much for Robin to take. With her eyesight going dark, she passed out and would have fallen to the floor had the Doctor not grabbed her arms in time.

"Like I said. Long night." The Gallifreyan said with a sigh.


	2. Chapter 2

Robin blinked at the harsh morning light that squeezed through the cracks in her shades. Clearing her head, she slowly sat up and tried to make sense of what she was looking at. She wasn't under her covers, just lying on top of them. That tended to happen when she stayed up late writing. Despite this, her computer was shut, carefully placed beside her bed, and all the lights were off. Enough strength to shut everything down for the night, but seemingly lacking in effort to get under the covers? That was odd. Robin hated sleeping without being completely covered. Probably something subconscious, linked back to childhood superstitions, but important to her none the less. But whatever _did_ happen, she couldn't really remember it. She could, however, remember the dream she had. It was rather simple compared to how she usually dreamed. She had dreamt that the Doctor had ended up, hurt, on her street and she had taken him in to help him. They had talked and then she couldn't remember much else. But whatever the cause, a dream was a dream, nothing more.

Moving to the edge of her bed, she felt a displaced ache in her forearms. Frowning, the young woman massaged them, one at a time, through her pajama sleeves. From the way they ached, it didn't seem like typical soreness. Carefully, she rolled her sleeves to find a light bruise on either arm in about the same place. Her brow furrowed; it was like someone had grabbed her, what had happened? Trying to let it go, she got up and did her morning business. Today she could just relax and enjoy herself, seeing how she had the day off. It was the day before Christmas Eve, and her employer was a kind fellow, feeling that his younger employees should have the chance to be young. She, among others, had gotten the 22nd through the 1st off to enjoy the holidays. Not that she had anyone to spend Christmas with save Carly and Luna. Then again, that in itself was a little sad, spending Christmas with a cat and a dog.

After dressing, Robin hurried into the kitchen, dismissing the dog on the couch again from the corner of her eye. She was about to fix herself breakfast when she noticed a few things out of place. The teacups didn't bother her too much, she had a tendency of leaving unused dishware out; often planning to use them, but having her attention drawn elsewhere. But no, what really bothered her was the half eaten yogurt cup sitting on the counter. She might have been forgetful when it came to empty dishes, but she never left food sitting. For a moment, the young woman wondered if her house had been broken into, but she rejected the notion. She strictly remembered that it was hers, but the when was fuzzy. And besides, who would break into someone's house just to eat half a cup of yogurt? She threw the spoiling food away, contemplating its meaning the whole time. Carly looked up from where she lay on the kitchen floor with doleful eyes. Robin smile at her and crouched down to scratch her behind the ears.

"What is it now, you lovable mutt? Breakfast isn't another hour and you're looking at me as you've been kicked off the sofa…" Robin froze. "But wait…weren't you _on_ the sofa a minute ago?" The young woman quickly stood and peered around the corner into her living room. It turned out that the sofa was indeed occupied, but not by a creature of furry origin. In fact, if all she remembered from her dream was true, the man asleep on her couch was not even of Earthly origin.

With one hand to steady herself against the wall, Robin slowly moved toward her sofa. Finally, when she thought she couldn't get much closer without freaking out again, she grabbed a nearby chair and sat. It was most likely that the time she sat there wasn't very long, but it felt like forever, just watching him. His clothes were still tattered and stained, his tie loose. He had his hands limply draped over his abdomen, making them the easiest point to watch his breath rise and fall, slow and a little ragged. The cuts on his face had already begun to heal and he looked a little flushed. If she remembered correctly, Gallifreyans had a temperature of about 60º Fahrenheit when healthy, which would drop to below freezing if they sustained some sort of grievous injury. So that was her guideline. Looking normal equaled healthy, looking frozen equaled having been severely injured but was recovering and looking like someone else equaled having almost died and been forced to regenerate. But what did it mean if he looked flushed, even fevered? She would have to know his temperature before she could try to figure that one out. Biting her lip, she thought back, settling on Christmas Invasion. The man had looked fevered then, after having been wakened too early from a post-regenerative healing coma. That had her worried; that state had left him with only one heart working for a short time. Then again, he seemed peaceful here, while then he had been restless. Robin found herself at a loss; she didn't know what to do. Was he unconscious or just asleep? Did he need her help in any way? The young woman gazed at his face, noticing he needed to shave. Her eyes flicked back and forth, as though looking for an answer as to what she should do. This was really happening to her and she was helpless in the matter. Should she try to find where he had landed the TRADIS? Would he be alright if she left him alone for long?

"Just how long do you intend to keep staring at me like that?" Robin jumped as the man spoke. She hadn't noticed that he had marginally opened his eyes to look at her. The corners of his mouth lifted at the sight of her flustered disposition.

"Sorry. I was just worried. I know some things about your physiology, but not all of it. You just seemed a little flushed."

"Do I?" He tried to prop himself up, but fell back with a gasp of pain and placed a hand on his side. "Well, that would explain that. I seem to have cracked a rib or two. Nothing serious, just… painful." He said with some difficulty.

"Rough landing?"

"Very rough. Must have hit something in the time vortex, which is…well, impossible now that I think about it. This whole experience seems a rather impossible to tell you the truth." He murmured, almost seeming to himself as he nestled back into the niche he had made in the sofa, wincing a little as he did.

"Tell me about it. This seems just as impossible to me as it does to you." The Doctor lifted an eyebrow at her.

"In your case, I would consider this all to more than just impossible."

"Yeah. I guess your right. I'm not even sure I believe it. You're the Doctor. A work of fiction, yet you're here, lying on my couch with a pair of cracked ribs. How do I know this isn't all a trick just to mess with my head? For all I know, some rich sod who has a bone to pick with me hired David Tennant to come freak me out."

"Who?"

"Never mind, it's irrelevant. What I'm saying is that I need some sort of proof."

"Proof…Would telling you that that I think my 26th rib happens to one of the cracked ones mean anything to you?"

"I'm sorry you're in pain, but I don't see what that's got to do with proof."

"Oh, you done get it, do you? Gallifreyans have 26 ribs while humans only have 24- ahg!" The Doctor grit his teeth in pain and clenched his fist. Robin instantly forgot her suspicion and confusion to reach out and help steady him by the shoulders with a gentle touch. The pain final subsided some and the man let out a discomforted sigh. "Well, it's good to know that your doubt doesn't keep you from caring." He whispered with a pained smile. "I take it you still want proof though."

"Just to help me get my head around it, yeah, I would if it's not too much trouble for you." She didn't want to be a burden to him just so she could make sense of the situation.

"Well, I wouldn't say it would be _too_ much of a burden. Just a few minutes extra of healing." And before she could stop him, he reached into his coat with a grimace and pulled out a stethoscope. His personal, trusty and beloved stethoscope at that. That in itself was almost enough proof for Robin. It also meant that his pockets just might indeed be bigger on the inside. She gaped at him.

"You have a banana in there somewhere too?"

"Probably. But don't make me get it; getting this stethoscope made my side hurt enough as it is." Robin smirked.

"I thought you liked bananas." She said as she carefully took the medical tool from him.

"I do! Bananas are good, but not for cracked ribs. Especially if reaching for said banana aggravates said cracked ribs. Now are you going to get your proof or just sit there looking sorry for me?" Robin blinked.

"What? Oh… right." Securing the device in her ear, she slowly pressed the end to the left side of his chest, the Doctor breathing slowly, letting her take in the rhythm along with the off-beat shadow that accompanied it. She could already guess what it was. Even more slowly, she placed the disc to the right of his chest, gasping softly at the strong lub-dub that took on the beat of the ghost rhythm she had heard previously while the strong throb she had heard before was now the apparition. Robin blinked a few times as she processed this.

"Well?"

"Well, I…guess I have no choice…but to believe you. I bit of a shock, but…I think I can handle it. The good news being that both your tickers sound like they're tickin' just fine." The Time Lord grinned.

"Good to know. And that reminds me, I've been meaning to ask. I noticed you have an American accent and gathered from the climate that I am indeed in America. My question is though, what part?"

"North Carolina. It's on the East Coast. We're right smack dab in the middle of the state. If you're wondering about my occasional southern slip, I get it from my dad. He's from Texas."

"Ah, I see. Well then, considering we've already gotten started, let's get right down to the details, starting with when. And considering the circumstances of this universe, don't give me just a Saturday or something, you know the drill." He said with the exact intellectual standards he had on the show. In fact, the only difference between him and the character was that right now he seemed snappier and a little cross. Robin decided to attribute this aspect to his current state and move on.

"It's Thursday, December 23, 2010 at about…" she glanced at the clock, "9:33 in the morning."

"Aahhh. Almost Christmas. I love Christmas…de_spite_ the fact I always end up in the strangest situations year after year."

"I know, it's like you're a beacon to danger or something on Christmas."

"And I'm guessing you would happen to know all about that, wouldn't you?" He said flatly.

"Kinda."

"Lovely." There was an awkward pause between them for what felt like hours.

"So… the TARDIS. It crashed I take it."

"We already established that."

"Oh. Right. We did, didn't we…"

"Yep." Robin noted how distant the Doctor seemed.

…

"So, I guess once you've healed, you'll high tale it out of here, won't you?"

"Probably."

…

"I see."

"Yeah."

"So… how long do you think it'll take for you to heal?"

"Probably another day. I'll be gone by morning."

"Ah." She bit her lip. "So there's no chance you'd stick around for Christmas or something?" The Time Lord blinked and turned his head to face her.

"Why? Do you want me to stay?"

"Well, yeah. I guess I would. And besides, an extra day or two of rest wouldn't kill you."

"Oh, what do you want me here for? You said it yourself, strange thing happen around me on Christmas."

"You said that."

"You agreed with it."

"This is a different universe."

"What does that got to do with it?"

"What doesn't it got to do with it?"

"Point taken-BUT! That doesn't mean I've said yes."

"You haven't said no either."

"Why would you want me here for Christmas? Won't your friends and family wonder why a man you can't explain who looks exactly like a television character is present at the holiday festivities?"

"Did you know that every present under my tree is labeled to me and my cat and dog?"

"No, I didn't. Why are you telling me this?"

"Come on Doctor. You're not that thick when it comes to human customs. Wouldn't you agree that presents under a tree are meant for those who are going to be at hand during the Christmas season? Those who live far away, have their gifts shipped to them, correct?"

"Yeah, that seems about right, but why- oh…All the gifts are yours… You're all alone, aren't you? All alone for Christmas…" Robin looked away from him towards the tree.

"Yeah. All alone." She turned back to the Doctor and smiled sadly. "I know staying for Christmas isn't your thing. You don't have to. Why do I care anyway?" The man ignored her.

"So what happened to the family?" He asked carefully.

"They're not dead if that's what you're thinking. Just far away. I don't have the money to waste on plane tickets every single year. Every once in a while, I'll go, but not every time. Only person close enough to drive to is my Gram. She's too old to get here without consequences. I go there every year and day or two early to exchange gifts with her. I usually end up cleaning her shelves for her." The Doctor snorted. "She likes to spend Christmas with her friends at the establishment she lives in."

"Leaving you to spend Christmas with your cat and dog."

"Luna and Carly."

"I see. Well, I'll think about it. We may just have to see how I'm feeling by the end of the day."

"Sounds good to me."

"Now, last night you mentioned trying to find me some clothes. I'd like to hold you up on that." He said with a smile, propping himself up with a little more ease than earlier.

"When was this?"

"Just before you passed out."

"Ah." Robin's mind seemed to de-clutter a little as she remembered what had happened. "So, clothes." She returned minutes later with clothing slung over her arm.

"Well, what's the verdict then?"

"Bad news is, I don't have any normal men's clothing in this house, I'll have to get you something later on or try to mend what you have. The good news is that I did find a set of men's pajamas that my dad left here last time he visited." The Doctor shook his head with a chuckle.

"What is it with women conveniently having a fitting pair of jimjams whenever I happen to need them?" Robin grinned at hearing him use the word jimjams. "Anyway, it's better than nothing. Perfect actually considering I'll be resting all day."

"Yeah, but Doctor? Just one question."

"What's that?"

"How are you going to put these on if it hurts just to move your arm?" The man grimaced.

"Very painfully."


End file.
